


Easy as Breathing

by Flufflybunnypants



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Dean, Asexual Castiel, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mild Angst, figuring out feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:33:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flufflybunnypants/pseuds/Flufflybunnypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has been pining for far too long and, in typical Dean Winchester fashion, he's going to try to drink his feelings away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy as Breathing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bones (thepiesandthebees)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepiesandthebees/gifts).



Cas watches Dean often. He watches Dean work, fight, and sleep. He watches Dean laugh, yell, and cry. Sometimes Dean knows he is there, sometimes Dean does not.

Castiel can’t stop, even when Dean teases him about the “creepy stare”. It’s like his vessel catches sight of Dean and can’t break that gaze.

Cas can’t account for the little twist in his chest, the involuntary sigh of relief, when he sees Dean. Or how it feels like a taut thread snaps when Dean hugs him. Subtle inquires about faulty vessels lead him nowhere.

Strangely, or perhaps not strangely at all, it’s Dean who provides the answer. He coerces Cas into watching some stupid romantic comedy, drags Cas out of his habitual coat, and makes him eat popcorn because “it’s tradition, I don’t care if you need food or not”.

When the male lead watches his long lost love, smiling, Cas feels the world fall out from under him.

His eyes drift, guilty, hopeful, to Dean.

Dean catches sight of him and turns. “What? Dude, you’re missing the best part.” He gestures back at the tv.

And suddenly, Cas can’t be there anymore. He makes paltry excuses and leaves. There’s too much to pore over, too many new fears revealed.

He ends up with Balthazar, a poor decision on any day. Balthazar, as usual, sees straight through him. “I’m glad you figured it out.” Balthazar hasn’t even bothered to get up to greet Cas.

“Balthazar!” Cas glares. “I cannot. Tell me how to undo this.”

“You can’t.”

“There has to be a way. This is unnatural.”

“Cas-”

“Balthazar, please!”

“Cas, you love him. There’s no power in existence that can make that not so.”

“Fine.” Cas withdraws into himself.

“Cas,” Balthazar groans, exasperated.

“It does not have to mean anything. I can move on.”

“Yeah I’m sure that will work.”

“It will,” Cas growls, before he leaves in a huff.

It doesn’t.

Cas can’t describe his love, only that it is all consuming. It’s like he can’t breathe unless he pleases Dean. If he makes Dean laugh or gives him what he needs, he is satisfied. When Dean frowns at him, chastises him, Cas is crushed. The emotional turmoil is distracting. Cas nearly gets his head chopped off once, and his coat suffers innumerable cuts.

Sam pulls him aside to ask what’s going on, but Cas brusquely brushes him off. He’s not going to talk about it. He cannot give into his desire for Dean. Dean loves women and sex and he would only look at Cas with pity or disgust if he knew how far the angel had fallen. Cas can’t lose him.

But the pretense is draining. And eventually, it gets the better of him.

He gets drunk. Staggeringly drunk. He’s impressed that there was that much alcohol in the city. “Soooo much,” he slurs to Dean, who doesn’t seem nearly so impressed. “Isss just sooooo much. ‘N I draaaank it. Aaaall.”

Dean’s such good friend. Cas tells him so. The world is swaying. Dean’s holding him up, but the world is lying down. He laughs.

He wakes up in darkness. He feels a hand cradling his. He sits up slowly and Dean, for that’s who’s sitting there in the dim room, drops his hand. “Just checking to make sure you were breathing, Bonham.”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know. You hungry?”

“I don’t feel hunger, Dean.” Cas doesn’t feel the effects of the alcohol anymore, but there is a strange weariness seeping into his bones.

“Well I’m hungry. It’s like five in the morning. Come on, Cas.” Dean grabs his shoulder and pulls him out of bed. Cas stumbles along behind Dean, squinting furiously as they move to more lit areas of the bunker.

Dean shoos Cas into a chair and starts pulling out ingredients. Dean’s immersed in whipping up omelets, filled with cheese and ham and spinach and bell peppers. He lets it sit for a moment, and turns to fish for the salt and pepper. He catches sight of Cas following his every movement avidly. “What?”

Cas shakes his head and softly says, “Nothing,” but he can’t keep his fond smile at bay.  
Dean returns his attention to the eggs in front of him, but not before giving Cas an odd look.  
In no time at all Dean deftly plates two omelets. He slides one in front of Cas and  gestures impatiently at Cas to eat. Cas takes up the fork and puts a bite in his mouth. As usual there are many molecules, but this combination is not overwhelming or displeasing.

Cas eats slowly, while Dean just gobbles his food down. Dean leans back, stretching his arms up above his head, his chair wobbling dangerously but never tipping over. There’s a strip of skin revealed where Dean’s shirt rides up. Dean yawns, blinking slowly.

Unbidden, the words leap out of Cas’ mouth. “I love you.”

Dean rocks back down hard, staring at Cas with a hard look. “Cas,” and there’s a warning there.

But Cas fought Hell to get here, spent a year out of his mind, forsook his own blood, all for Dean. He’s not going to stop fighting now.

“I love you, Dean. You can’t make me ashamed of that.” It comes out fiercer than it really needs to be, but it’s honest.

Dean’s neck and collarbones are red. This time he’s quieter in his speech. “I’m not trying to, Cas. I can’t…can’t.”

“Why not? Why can’t I love you, Dean?” Cas matches Dean’s tone, quiet and pleading.

“I can’t love.”

“That statement is somewhat akin to the feces of a bovine.” Cas wishes Dean spoke other languages so Cas could properly express precisely how he feels about it.

Dean barks a dry laugh. “Cas, I can’t fall in love with someone.”

Cas tilts his head and squints. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t, Cas. It’s…” Dean shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. “Sam has some shit about it, calls it aromanticism.”

“Okay.” Cas knows the word, conceptually understands it. It’s fairly irrelevant as far as he’s concerned. “I love you.”

“You can’t keep saying that!” Dean shoves away from the table and stands, turning to throw his hands in the air.

“I don’t get aroused.” Cas blurts out.

“What?”

“I don’t feel sexual attraction. I don’t-” he gestures uncomfortably at his crotch.

“No, I heard you the first time.” Dean puts a hand up to forestall further explanation.

“If there’s no reciprocation of affection, then say so. But I love you. Whether or not you fall in love with me, I love you. And maybe I’m broken, unfit for heaven. Maybe you’re broken too. But maybe if we’re broken together it’s not like being broken at all.”

“Cas…I care, okay. I care a lot about you, but it’s not fair to lead you on. I don’t have anything to give in a relationship.”

Cas moves fast, shoving Dean back against the wall. “Love me or not, you will not talk about yourself so hatefully. You are good and loving, and I will not let you reduce that to nothing.”

“Cas,” Dean rasps hoarsely, “there’s reciprocal affection, okay. But what good is that to you? What good is that for us?

"I don’t need anything, Dean. I just need you to be happy. So tell me now,” he steps back, giving Dean space, though his body screams to keep Dean close, “will you be happier with me as a friend? Is a relationship an option?

"God fucking dammit, you son of a bitch,” Dean spews, shaking his head before pulling Cas into a brutal, desperate hug. “I want you to be happy, you idiot. What the hell do you want with me? How would we even exist in a relationship together?”

Slightly out of breath and grumbly, Cas replies, “You make me happy, despite your blasphemy. I have faith that we can make this work. I believe in us.”

Dean sighs, and drops his head to rest on Cas’ shoulder. And then pops back up with a grin. “If we go back to bed now, Sammy won’t bug us until eleven at least.”

“To bed?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks Cas over and notes the furrowed brow. “Just to sleep, Cas.”

“I don’t-”

“Well I do, so get used to it. Come on, I didn’t sleep last night.”

Dean falls asleep with his head tucked next to Cas’ hip. Cas sits against the headboard, quietly reading while Dean rests. It’s quiet, Dean’s slow, even breathing keeping Cas company. And for the first time in so very long, watching Dean fills him with hope.


End file.
